Softly, softly beat bobbies

DEEP inside the old Clifford Street police station beneath York Magistrates Court, the morning briefing is taking place. Seated around the conference table are four young men and women in crisp new uniforms. At the top of the table sits Sgt Dave Williams.

"Have you got your maps?" he asks. "Can you see where Parliament Street is?"

Fingers search through the battered pages of York A-Zs in vain. "I think it is right on the crease," says someone. All right, so their local knowledge may be limited. But the latest recruits to the ranks of York crime fighters make up for it in enthusiasm.

I joined them on Tuesday, the first day York's Police Community Support Officers were pounding the beat without supervision. There was some nervousness - but also a sense of genuine excitement.

North Yorkshire Police have recruited 38 of the new officers. Eight are based in York, five in Selby and the rest elsewhere in the county.

Their main job is to provide a high- visibility presence on the street, pounding the beat in a uniform of white shirt, black tie, police-issue trousers and fluorescent jacket and cap. They are equipped with police radios so they can call for back-up at any time, and a basic First Aid kit, but no handcuffs or police truncheons.

They may have certain limited powers - such as issuing fixed penalty notices for dog fouling, litter and cycling on pavements, and to request the name and address of anybody acting in an "anti-social manner" - but these are not police officers. And they do not have powers of arrest.

At Clifford Street, with Parliament Street finally identified on the maps, Sgt Williams is finishing his briefing.

The community support officers' main task, he explains, will be to keep an eye out for petty crime and anti-social behaviour, and to maintain a presence on the streets.

Each morning they will be assigned to cover areas of the city centre and the outlying estates identified at the daily police intelligence meetings as petty crime hotspots.

Today, one pair of officers is detailed to cover York city centre east of Parliament Street, the other pair the west side of the city centre. After lunch, they will swap beats.

Sgt Williams briefs them on what to look out for. "Just show your presence around the York Hospital car park," he says. "There is a lot of crime there. Also St George's car park." In Parliament Street itself, he adds, the "flash point" tends to be around the fountain. "It's not unknown for people put soap in the fountain," he says.

Briefing over, it's time to hit the street. I'm with Kathryn Wright, a 22-year-old former bank trainee from London who applied to be a community support officer with North Yorkshire Police when her RAF husband Corporal Jamie Wright was posted to RAF Linton, and Ben Chamberlain, a strapping 25-year-old from York who has tried his hand at a number of things, including working at a supermarket and being a paid personal assistant to a disabled friend.

Both admit they applied to become community support officers with half an eye on trying to become regular police officers later. "Many of us are thinking of applying," says Kathryn, as we walk up Clifford Street towards Ousegate. "Hopefully this is a good insight into police work. We're in the front line, but we're not, if you know what I mean. We're mainly eyes and ears, observing and reporting."

All 38 of the new community support officers have undergone three weeks of basic police training, which included communication skills, basic law to do with human rights and anti-social behaviour, self-defence and First Aid.

The York officers also spent a week in Acomb and have been out on patrol with experienced police officers.

But this is their first time going it alone. Ben and Kathryn are a little self-conscious in their new uniforms at first. Then, at Ousegate, a woman - reacting to the pair as if they were regular police officers - asks Ben for directions to the Moat House Hotel. It's an effective ice-breaker. "The Moat House? Yes, you just want to be down here, love, over the bridge," he says smoothly; and the pair of them seem to relax into their roles.

No one is pouring soap into the fountain at Parliament Street, but in St Sampson's Square a busker approaches claiming a motorist who parked at the side of the road almost ran over his foot. The altercation between busker and motorist threatens to get heated, and an onlooker intervenes, saying the motorist's behaviour was "ignorant".

Again, Ben deals with it smoothly. Did he actually run over your foot? he asks. Well, no. "I think it's a case of both of you watching what other people are doing," says Ben, playing the mediator.

As we patrol up Davygate, I have the chance to question them. Reports from London suggest there is some friction between regular police and community support officers.

Is there anything like that in York?

"The regular officers at Clifford Street have all been really good," says Kathryn. "Fabulous. There's no resentment. Some of them say "so why don't you just join the police?", and there's some talk that they think we may be taking their overtime - but that's what people have said they may think, rather than what anybody has actually said."

At Bootham Bar, Ben and Kathryn are quizzed by an elderly man who wants to know more about their job. Kathryn says quite a few people have asked this as we walk on up Bootham. They stop them to say how good it is to see people in uniforms on the street.

We cut through Grosvenor Terrace and across Bridge Lane to York Hospital where we check out the hospital car park. There do not seem to be any criminals lurking suspiciously, but a hospital security guard confirms there are usually several cars broken into each week. We'll keep an eye out, Ben assures him.

Without any powers of arrest what could they do if they did find someone doing something they shouldn't? I ask Kathryn says, they could take a description and call for back-up on their police radios.

Walking back into town down High Petergate we encounter a motorist sitting fuming in his car while a lorry off-loads goods into a shop, blocking the road. "Can you do something about this?" he asks Ben and Kathryn, reacting to their uniforms. "He's the wrong way in a one-way street. The street is blocked. My wife has an appointment at the hospital."

Once again, Ben moves into action. "Are you moving?" he asks the driver. The sight of his uniform prompts an apologetic wave and the man instantly gets in his cab and backs his lorry out of the street.

With their limited powers and training, the new community support officers are not going to solve North Yorkshire's crime problems overnight.

But they are an effective presence on the street for deterring petty crime. And if they can release regular officers to deal with more serious crime, all the better.

Updated: 10:40 Thursday, July 17, 2003